


Call it a day

by Dmonius



Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmonius/pseuds/Dmonius





	Call it a day

Harry went into his father's old room and looked around. It was mostly empty – all the furniture had already been moved and Harry was sure the company had already brought it halfway across the continent to San Francisco. After a short look on his cell phone, Harry sat down on a box that mostly consisted of Peter's books and looked at the mirror that had remained in place. This had been his father's room, many years ago, until Harry had inherited after his father's murder by Spider-Man.

“Hey, tiger.” Peter stood at the other side of the door – only his head was visible – and, smiling as usual, just said, “Aunt May is done bossing around the poor guys who move our furniture. Do you need a minute?”

“Yea, just a minute. Could you take MJ for one final tour around the house?”

“Sure,” Peter said, but still came forward. He touched Harry's shoulder and kissed the back of his head. “Everything fine?”

“Yes,” Harry said. He turned around and smiled at the young, demure man. “I love you, you know? And I'm more than thankful for everything you did to me.”

As usual, Peter gazed into space before looking at Harry and replied: “I love you, too. Catch up later, okay? Don't wanna miss our flight to California – Tony's getting annoying already and I think Pepper will kill both of us if Stark Enterprises shares drops for only percent because of his … impatience.”

“Let's keep him waiting,” Harry said. He slapped Peter's bud affectionately and his husband smiled one more time, blew one final kiss and left the room.

Harry got up and walked towards the mirror; sometimes, the voice he had heard there are still here with him, they are whispering to him but on one of too many occasions, Harry had learned simply to ignore them. The closer Harry got to the mirror, the more he could hear the voice whispering in the nothingness that was there.

Harry's hand touched one side of the mirror, went up, went down and stopped at some point; he felt an unevenness and pressed it without much force. The mirror started to move and revealed a secret chamber on the other side of the door. When Harry entered it, he was greeted by dust, dust that covered nearly everything and then, he saw what awaited him here.

“Oh my God...Dad?”

Next to shelves full of weaponry, bombs and blades, Harry saw a pair of masks – _Goblin_ masks – and the glider on whom the Green Goblin had moved through the air during the attack many, many years ago. And this storeroom was for Goblin's weaponry, weaponry that might even resemble blueprints Harry had worked with during his time at Oscorp.

It was all too easy. His father had been the Green Goblin. Norman Osborn had been the Green Goblin – all those memories suddenly came back, even though Harry had believed to have lost them a long time ago. And then, it hit him. His father had not only been the Green Goblin.

Peter was also Spider Man. Or has been, as a matter of fact.

Everything was clear now – how Spider-Man disappeared after the night Mary-Jane Watson was killed by Venom and the Sandman – how Peter's life suddenly started to came back to normal – how Harry had been granted the opportunity (and seized it!) to reconcile his friendship and love – how Peter had _killed_ his father – all because of the loss of one important piece of memory that was back again.

“You might wanna call that a secret layer, alright.”

Harry turned around to face Aunt May, who was standing at the mirror, hesitating to come inside.

“I'm sorry, May...but...but...”

“At a loss for words are you, hm?”

Harry looked down to the steps he had left in the dust. Harry fell on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair. “I can't believe it,” he said.

“Neither did I,” May said. She knelt down next to him and caressed his face.

“You knew it. You knew it all along?”

“Of course I did. Peter told me years ago, right at Mary-Jane's funeral, Harry.”

Harry looked at the old women – his surrogate mother-in-law, so to speak – and then looked around again; he couldn't believe what he could see there, how his father had collected all these machines of doom and death.

“So Peter is no longer Spider-Man,” Harry said.

“He quit after MJ's death.”

Harry gazed into space and said, “And he killed my father, Aunt May.”

“No, he didn't.”

Aunt May held Harry's shaking wrist and moved his hand to her old and wrinkled face; Harry could actually feel the heat on her face when she said, “Your father was killed by his own actions...by an accident. He asked Peter not to tell, never to tell you about what he had done. But you figured it out yourself and still wanted revenge on Peter...until you had an accident on your own.”

Harry looked her in the eye, “But I saw him that night, I saw how he brought my father's dead body into this very room. I knew it – and I believed it.”

“You actually believed it, I know. I thought so myself, given the many times you told me. But Peter did not kill your father the same way he did not kill Mary-Jane. He gave up being Spider-Man for you, Harry.”

“Why?”

Aunt May smiled. “He gave up being Spider-Man because he was not only able to do good, but put the people he loved at risk. With Ben gone, your father and Mary-Jane – Peter couldn't afford to lose you, Harry.”

With a tear in his eye, Harry looked around one more time and, his legs still shaking, got up with Aunt May's help. He linked arms with her and they went out of the room. May sat down on the box again, while Harry tried to get rid of the dust covering his clothes. He turned around and closed the mirror door when Peter and their little daughter came in.

“Hey – you ready?” Peter asked.

“Of course we are – aren't we, Harry?”

Harry walked towards their little, shy girl and lifted her up. He kissed his husband, a slow, tentative kiss, before he said: “Sure. Let's call it a day.”


End file.
